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Mimban


Darth Heretic

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Abaddon looked at his apprentice...she was extremely tired and he could see she was about to collapse. She nodded in answer to his question and he lead her to room where he layed her down.

 

She was soon asleep in that room that was his own...or at least now it was. The Dark Lord looked back at Tzeentch who stood before him.

 

"Kneel my apprentice. For it is the last time you kneel as my apprentice...and as I am forseeing more and more it will soon be the last time you kneel before me."

 

"Ahriman...Tzeentch...give me the Sith sword I gave you." The Dark Lord spoke coldly in a commanding voice.

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Father Bad Touch, Dark Priest of the Lords of Hate since Sept. 2003.

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Abaddon placed the Sith sword against the apprentices shoulder cerimoniously.

 

"Rise Lord Tzeentch. We have much to accomplish." The Dark then discussed what was to be done with Ahrimans new found knowlege and creations.

 

He placed the Sith sword down beside the girl asleep in the bed. The sword that was given to him by his Master was nows hers. He walked with Tzeentch to his ship.

ABADDONFREEDOMISNTFREE.gif

 

Father Bad Touch, Dark Priest of the Lords of Hate since Sept. 2003.

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*A dark wind setteled through the broken clouds above Mimban. The security measures had dropped silently at its approach and restated themselves when it was through. Lightning crashed in the atmosphere, a constant of Mimban's destructive skies. However, even the bolts of energy danced around the ship's hull rather than touch it, as if afraid of the vengance it might reap. The Dark Knight tempted the powers of nature to turn its gaze away in fear.

 

Without sight, black fingers traced the controls in the dark. The Force was sight itself for the blind, and those who could not make the Force their eyes were truly blind. The three landing feet extended on hydrolic shocks a few moments before landing. A hiss of steam filled the empty silence of the landing bay when the shocks adjusted for the setteling weight of the ship. The back landing bay lowered with only a slight groan and allowed light to filter up onto the robes of the black clad figure standing at the ramps apex.

 

In the darkness of the robe's cowles, Bishop's face was still thin and strong, though age had begun creeping with its small lines across the cheeks and above the eyes. Most of that was still well hidden in the darkness. The milky whites his eyes had begun to fade to was hidden beneath an even more impenetrable shroud. Silently, he walked down the ramp into the empty hanger.*

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Tarrian's head came up and she looked into the sky as a ship decended onto the planet. A small smile crossed her face as she felt his approach to the planet. It had been a very long time since she had seen him. Standing, she sent Nahstaa a message telling him to find her when he had rested and was ready.

 

She made her way through the dark corridors to the empty hanger and stopped as she saw him exit the ship. She waited as he walked towards her.

"When in doubt, Get the Hell out!!!"

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*Bishops dark and damning gaze settled on Tarrian's shadow in the doorway he strode to greet. Yellow light washed in from the hallway, tinting the overblown white of the hanger. To his eyes the world image in his mind was of high contrast pigmints. Where the light blossomed over her forehead, white blew out her features. In the shadows of her eyes and hallowed cheeks, darkness reigned in inky blackness. Blues, greens, and reds contrasted in full saturation as though vainly trying to put together a picture. The world as seen through a high crontrast negetive.

 

His footsteps halted on the other side of the automatic door. His cloak swept the ground as it brushed just past him then settled into place. He cocked his head slightly to the woman standing through the doorway.*

 

"What has happened since I left?"

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hearing his master's call, and having already rested enouhg, Nahstaa went looking for her. He found her in the hanger bay, Looking at someone nahstaa had not seen before...

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Reverend of the Lords of Hate sep' 05, Destroyer of armies.

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*It always seemed prudent for Raynuk to pop out of the shadows at places that others didnt think he would be at, but yet to which he had his own reasons.

 

This...was one of those times.

 

Raynuk came walking across the hanger slowly towards Bishop from behind. He knew that Bishop heard him comming, but to a certain extent, that was the point. *

 

"Well for one thing Bishop...I got bumped....About three times. And this time it is for good I belive."

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I ate a hippo. It was delicious.

May the Forth therve you well...

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Tarrian turned as she felt Nahstaa enter the bay. Turning back to Bishop she smiled. He may not see much, but he could feel her pleasure that he had once again returned. "It is good to see you, Bishop. I have missed you."

 

She reached for his hand and held it, "Alot has happened in your absense. Come walk with me and I will fill you in." As they walked, Nahstaa walked behind them. "Abbadon is now (edited...I meant now not not.... ) Lord of the Sith, and an attack on the Jedi is being planned as we speak. I will remain here with the hopefuls that can not fight, and then start the plans for the new training academy for the new sith."

 

They walked in silence for a while and then Tarrian continued. "I have been training, the one behind us is my newest apprentice. My brother has disappeared, and seems to have become one with the force. BZ's son is now training under one of my apprentices, and it seems that .... "

 

She stopped for a moment, "that Darth Heretic has returned. Raynuk is still here as well and has been training as well. There is not to much else that you have missed." She smiled at him...it was good to see him, it had been such a long time.

Edited by Guest

"When in doubt, Get the Hell out!!!"

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*Bishop's hand was cold to the touch, and he did little to acknowledge the contact. He did not turn when Raynuk approached behind him, and he gave little attention at all to Nahstaa's presence.*

 

"Heretic will be dealt with when it is his time. He is not a concern. Raynuk, arrange for me to meet with... Lord Abaddon."

 

*His tone shifted, not a faulter but a change, as he said the Dark Lord's name.*

 

"We must collect one more before we will be ready."

 

*Their path took them onto a fenced portico overlooking Mimban's thrashing forests and the windswept temples. He pulled away to walk to the railing, his hand sliding out of Tarrian's. The water drenched, ice cold railing was warm to his touch. He stood silently, lightning rumbles filtered through the clouds above.*

 

"Where is she?"

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*Raynuk simply nodded, a movement that he knew Bishop wouldnt acknowlege, but one that he 'saw'. Turning on his heel, he left Tarrian and Bishop to their own affairs as he went to seek out Abaddon.

 

He found him a few moments later, and tapped the Lord of the Sith on the shoulder and waited for him to finish with Tzeentch. When he was done and Raynuk had his attention, he spoke softly*

 

"Bishop has returned Master....He wishes to have a meeting with you."

1fE1uLv.png

I ate a hippo. It was delicious.

May the Forth therve you well...

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*Heretic felt a very major disturbance in the Force. One that he had not felt in quite some time, and was certain that, un til he actually felt it, would not feel again. Bishop. Where in the 7 Hells did he come from, and why had he chosen to return now? No matter, he would be of little regard, master or not. The master and his new apprentice had more pressing matters, but this little war that Abaddon was waging would have to wait.

 

He stood there, watching the last of the repair droids finish it's task that Raynuk had recently started and then it left.*

 

Now, Morpheus, we shall go to the armory and get a generic lightsaber, so that you can see how clumsy those blades you carry truly are.

 

*With that, the master and apprentice headed for the armory*

Your death at my hands is still only YOUR death.

 

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Tarrian stood there and looked at Bishop a moment and walked up behind him. Placing her hands on his shoulders, "Kaylynn is well. She is not on Mimban, safe on a hidden world. If you want, I can have her come to you."

 

She stood and waited for him to answer.

"When in doubt, Get the Hell out!!!"

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((Edited, I'm a moron, this is Morpheus. No need to waste post space.))

 

"Yes, Master."

 

Morph turned sharply after him, and walked down the hallways with him. He anticipated trying such a legendary weapon, the effortlessness of the older hopefuls wielding one enthralled him. If he did well with his swords, he was sure to do well with a lightsaber.

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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"I see. Unexpected, though it will be resolved."

 

*Bishop turned away from the railing, glancing briefly over his shoulder at Tarrian as he continued down the path that had followed a few moments earlier.*

 

"I want you, or for you to send one of the trusted Sith in your stead, to go to the planet Ilum. There you will find a being who calls himself Talker. He is to be brought here for me."

 

*He clasped his hands behind his back as he continued to walk.*

 

"There is much to be done before... this war."

 

*The tonal shift was evident in his voice again. Deathly silent, he continued down the corridor, entering back into the interiour of the complex.*

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Tarrian nodded to Bishop, "If you wish, he will be brought here immediately". She watched him for a second then turned and went to Lord Impede.

 

"Lord Impede, I want for you to go to Ilum, and bring back this talker for Bishop. You are not to badger his ear or offer to train him. Just put his ass in the ship and bring him to Mimban. Once you have returned, bring him to my ... I mean our chambers. Bishop will be there resting. Go now and return as quickly as you can."

 

she then returned and rejoined Bishop in his walk. "Bishop, he will be brought here shortly, why not come to the room and get cleaned up and changed. Your things are still there and you can rest until this talker arrives."

"When in doubt, Get the Hell out!!!"

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"Good."

 

*Bishop did not move immediatly at Tarrien's suggestion. She had found him stopped before one of the relics of the ancient temples. He was studying it as though it was important.*

 

"Yes..."

 

*He turned to face Tarrien, as though seeing through the black shroud over his eyes.*

 

"Lead on to my chambers."

 

*When she moved, he followed.*

 

"Who are our strongest allies now?"

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Tarrian led Bishop to their chambers and filled him in along the way. "At the moment, the Imperials would be our strongest allies. Then there is always the ones for hire." They continued to walk in silence for a bit until they reached the chamber.

 

She opened the door for him, and entered after him. "There is time for you to get cleaned up and rest, much to be done soon. I feel discourse within the order. Your skills will be much needed in the war."

 

She sat down on the sofa and watched him.

"When in doubt, Get the Hell out!!!"

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"Yes... the war."

 

*His voice shifted again.*

 

"The discourse you feel is only natural. It is the way of the galaxy. But I bring rest from the discord."

 

*The closet slid open before him and his gaze marched over the lines of clothes inside. He walked away a moment later without having touched any of them.*

 

"When either your envoy or Lord Abaddon returns, inform me of their arrival. I will also require a list of the available mercenaries, specifically those with the skills and stomach to handle what we will require."

 

*Bishop laid himself down on the bed, fully clothed and with his dark hood still pulled over his head. His arms crossed his chest and he went still as death. It seemed he was not even breathing.*

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A blue mist swirls around the temple in Mimban. It swims through the temple until it is in front of a young man with a lightsaber. The near child was training withthe blade as if he had never touched one.(this is not Viano.) The mist swirls around the man and moves his clothes around. The boy begins to twitch and shake as his body no longer becomes his own.

 

"I have returned."

 

The body of the man now belongd to Micheal. It was his to se as he pleased. But this would not be permanent. It would only be temporariy until he could find his saber. Only then would it become permanent.

 

"I need sme of my old blood to become my former self. To become a weapon of the Force once again." He disengages the saber and hooks it to his belt. He throws his hand to the left and unleashes a powerful blast of Force waves and topples hundreds trees starting a domino effect.

 

"Good Force conection. Ive had better. This body disgusts me."

 

He walks into the temple are and senses something he had not felt in a long time.

 

"So Bishop and Tarrian are here as well. This may prove interesting."

 

He had known these two since before his days in training. Realistically, they had been his true masters in the ways of the Force. They had trained him partially as Jedi and as Sith. They had shown him the true meaning and side of the Force. They had turned him into the weapon he was now.

 

He suddenly finds himself at their door. He knocks lightly on the door.

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((Chrissie, am i supposed to be inside your chambers, or at the door, or in my room??? have i been that bad a boy to go to my room??? alright))

 

Nahstaa went to his room, to wait for his masters call. whilst he was there, he felt his room was a little too bare, so he took a look at his credits... he had.... 20 credits... wow... meh, next time im at the shop, ill just have to steal some... unlesssssss.... my master uses this as a training exercise of some sort... ((nudge nudge, wink wink))

Nahstaa-1.jpg

 

Reverend of the Lords of Hate sep' 05, Destroyer of armies.

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Jareth made his way through the short distance which connected the training facility and the main body of the temple. As he passed into the building, he could feel his master's essence. She felt different within the force than she had before. The link that Jareth shared with her was strong, and he was pleased at the emotion that he could feel eminating from her.....joy.

 

I will have to speak with her before leaving. It could be the last chance I get to speak with her Jareth thought to himself as he pondered the dangers of the impending war.

 

Now, however, was not the time. Within a few moments, the sith lord had arrived at his destination, and business at hand.

 

"Master Raynuk........You wish to speak with me?"

He inquired as he bowed low at the former Dark Lord's feet.

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(( CRAP CRAP. SORRY TARRIAN I DIDNT SEE YOUR POST.))

 

* Impede nodded and turned to Vile.*

 

" Pick your light saber and wait here on Mimban till I return."

 

* Impede threw his hood over his head and got into his ship. He started it up and left the planet.*

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*He was almost here. It was almost time to begin.

 

Bishop sat up a moment before the second set of knocks at their door came. He rose and Tarrian's head jerked towards him sharply to follow him. Without a hint of sluggishness despite his apparrent rest, Bishop moved quickly towards the door. It opened without so much as a single physical command, and he walked right past Michael on the other side. He did not look at him as he passed, only spouted off a few words that did not sound so much as though they were said than as if they were recited. Recalled from a memorized poem and stated aloud for recollective purpouses.*

 

"It is not yet your time to serve me, young one."

 

*He continued on without breaking his quick stride. He was headed towards the docking bay.*

Edited by Guest
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